


and it only goes to show

by freloux



Category: Trial and Error (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Hate Sex, Sort Of, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 07:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15769206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freloux/pseuds/freloux
Summary: This is so unprofessional it’s disgusting but honestly? Josh doesn’t really care right now.





	and it only goes to show

“I had an idea,” Carol Anne says, apropos of nothing. She hasn’t bothered to knock. She never knocks. Secretly, in a dark place he’d never admit to anyone, Josh doesn’t mind at all.

Regardless, Josh doesn’t answer at first. He doesn’t even look up: he’s too busy trying to control the stacks of papers that have bloomed like mushrooms across his desk. “What was your idea?” he finally asks.

He hears the precise, exacting clickclickclick of her heels getting closer and closer. When he looks up at last, Carol Anne is standing right in front of his desk. Hands on her hips. No-nonsense. Controlling. Josh meets her eyes without backing down. He maintains the gaze for just enough beats that he’s sure that eventually the silence will break and turn awkward.

It doesn’t. Instead it gets heavier somehow - thick with meaning. Carol Anne glances down towards his mouth ever so briefly. Josh’s heart squeezes and his blood shifts as if expectant.

“A truce,” she says. It’s been quiet for so long that he startles a little. Her voice is low, suggestive. He’s heard that tone of voice from her before - that kind of tone that makes him distracted, makes him fantasize, when what he should really be doing is trying to focus on this case.

Josh licks his lips. “A truce,” he repeats.

Carol Anne shifts almost imperceptibly. Is she losing her nerve? “Just for tonight, of course.” She pauses. He knows what she’s really trying to say. That she’s hoping he’ll put two and two together without her having to say it outright. Thing is, he wants her to. Wants her to get completely messed up. Come undone.

She takes a breath, steadies herself against the edge of his desk, and - “Fuck me.” The words rush out of her unsteadily. Then - “Please,” quieter.

There are no cameras rolling right now. They can be themselves without pretense. Let all the guards they’ve built so carefully turn to crumbling ruin. It doesn’t have to mean anything; feelings don’t matter until they do, and Josh at least is committed to making sure they don’t matter for as long as possible. All for the good of the case, of course.

Carol Anne rounds the desk - that clickclickclick of her heels again - and Josh almost shrinks into himself. He can’t hide now, but then again, he’s not sure he’d want to.

It’s a clunky stop-start affair at first. Carol Anne leans down to kiss him, he rises up eagerly to meet her, and they both end up landing awkwardly back on his desk chair. It rolls backwards with a sharp little squeak. Josh wants to laugh, break the tension, but Carol Anne is insistent. She’s a forceful kisser. He hadn’t really expected that: the last time they’d kissed the two of them had been interrupted by the cameras and she’d slapped him. (He could feel the sting of her palmprint for hours afterwards. It had encouraged things in him he’d never known he wanted.)

But anyways, her lips are everywhere and nowhere at once. Just when Josh has caught up to her, or thinks he has, Carol Anne pulls away to kiss somewhere else: his cheek, his jawline, his neck. She pauses just short of giving him a hickey there, at the place just above where the collar of his shirt folds in against his skin. He’s both relieved and disappointed: he wants to know what her teeth would feel like but isn’t ready for the inevitable barrage of questions he’d be assaulted with both in and out of the courtroom.

Josh has never been close enough to her for that long. She always turns away at the last moment, leaving him half-hard and breathing shakily. Now, though, time has slowed down, sped up, whatever, and she’s in his arms. He’s losing the plot. Carol Anne smells sharp and clean at first before it softens and turns warm. Her hair spills under his hands, updo forgotten, breaking free as much as she is.

When they’d kissed before, it had been close-mouthed, but it seems that Carol Anne is just as eager to go straight for tongue. Holy wow she’s good at it. He hadn’t expected that, either. She pulls at his lips at the same time she pushes her tongue into his mouth. All his nerve endings flicker to life. Carol Anne smiles. It makes her lips move in a truly delightful way against his.

She grinds up on him almost hesitantly. Surprising, given how far along they are now, but sweet somehow all the same. Carol Anne slots herself neatly against him: legs smooth and tight around his hips, tipping down, almost like she’s hugging him. He’s getting warm. These two throbbing points of pressure: her vagina nearly pressed into him, and his cock shifting, filling, getting ready for her, wanting. Wanting.

Breathing. Slippery. He’s gasping into her mouth, he’s so close - 

Carol Anne slides off - away - much too soon. He whimpers at the loss of pressure, hoping against hope that she’s not going to leave him completely, cockteasing all over again. Josh sits there, panting, fisting his hands on his thighs, watching her stand up. She lifts her skirt with one hand and pulls her panties down with the other. Oh, god.

It’s a little scrap of fabric, so inconsequential on the linoleum, and he almost laughs. She’s serious, though, perhaps too intensely. Like she’s trying to prove she’s not sexually frustrated. Josh wants to tell her she could let out that frustration on him any time she wants - needs?

He fumbles with the flies on his khakis. Carol Anne is panting herself, watching him while he adjusts himself, trying to go faster even though his hands are shaking with adrenaline. She takes over, impatient. Just barges right in and grabs his cock, squeezing forcefully so much it makes him gasp, buck up into her hand, shaky little breaths.

“You like that?” she asks. Coaxing, pulling her hand upwards.

He whines, gasps out “yes” because he can’t think of anything else to say. Can’t speak at all, really. His cock is all dark, almost peachy pink, that swells into red. Her little hand makes it look even bigger. When she nudges his cock up into herself, he whimpers again. It seems almost unfair that she’s taking all his words away from him, exactly the way she does in the courtroom.

Carol Anne rides him slowly, shallowly, even, but he can still hear it, all noisy and wet - it’s obscene, really. This is so unprofessional it’s disgusting but honestly? Josh doesn’t really care right now. Especially since Carol Anne is squirming on his cock in an eager effort to get herself off.

“Oh my god,” Josh manages to choke out, somewhere in the buzzy fog of arousal that’s threatening to overwhelm him. “You’re so wet.”

She seems happy about that, as though she’s accomplished something. Meanwhile her hands are - her hands are -

Tight. On his hips. Nails digging in but not quite enough to leave marks. He kind of wants her to but doesn’t know how to ask. She’s groaning into his ear and he can’t help but moan back - pleasure echoing, responding. Like they’re trying to fuck it out of their systems so that tomorrow they can go back to being enemies again.

But maybe, and here’s an even weirder thought, they were never enemies to begin with. He can’t really concentrate on that right now, though. Her hands are in his hair, now, getting it completely messed up and out of its usual coiffed perfection. Josh likes it. He wants her to mess it up. Show her exactly what she’s made of, everything she’s been holding back.

She’s reading his mind. Carol Anne leans in close to kiss him again, fierce, all tongue and teeth, and clenches down on him hard. Wetness pools down around them, into his khakis, onto his skin. She might be moaning again but Josh can’t quite hear over the roar of blood in his veins, urging him onwards, deeper inside her. Pushing up while she bears down. Skin on skin, heating up, and Carol Anne whimpers, comes again, and again, and again. He’s unlocked something in her: there’s power in that. Josh might use it in some form in the courtroom tomorrow. Or at least carry himself differently with all this newfound confidence.

“I’m gonna - ” Carol Anne breaks off and, before he can ask what, she guides his hand downwards to where their skin meets each other. There’s a little notch of skin clockwise above it. She lets his hand go so he can find his way on his own. When he rubs it, curious, she whines. So obviously he does it again: touches feather-light but nowhere near enough for what she seems to want. Josh glides his fingers with more intent. Carol Anne whimpers and Josh feels even wetter: she’s soaking his hand, dripping all over pretty much everything.

He touches his forehead against hers, eyes closed, thighs shaking. His voice cracks when he tries to say her name - it just comes out broken, half-swallowed, like it’s just a sound instead of a word. She kisses it away and goes on kissing him as he bucks upwards, slipping in her arousal, before coming himself with a rough little jerk.

“This was,” he pants, “a terrible idea.”

“Terrible,” Carol Anne agrees.

Neither of them move. When she asks if he wants to do this again, he finds himself saying yes.

Besides, they have all night.


End file.
